Comet
by SeungSeiRan
Summary: It's a painfully rare type of phenomenon. Rukawa x Haruko.


**Disclaimer:** **I don't own Slam Dunk**.

* * *

For a first year, Haruko is incredibly sure of what she likes.

There is his intensity, fresh, raw and blooded from years of battles. There is the eternal fire that his eyes exude, engulfing her in their torrential blaze. It takes a single spark to for the flames to spread without any need for a conductor of sorts. There is admiration and then there is obsession. There are two ways to die, freeze or burn alive, gasp for air, precious air, but realize that you had the choice to run.

For some reason, Haruko begins to recall old words of wisdom.

'_You can never run fast enough from a wildfire.'_

He's a comet, streaking through constellations and tearing them to shreds, a wily destroyer of legends in his own right. Haruko has seen beauty in watching other lesser beings grow and flourish underneath nurturing hands. And then she has seen beauty in downfalls, graceless and opulent in equally contrasting shades of color. There is sheer brilliance in the way comets rip through night skies before scorching the earth as it strikes down. All the while, she hasn't realized that she has been holding her breath in awe. The flames rise, the sparks fly, incinerating everything in their line of fire.

Haruko is barely a month over fifteen and she can see what she likes in him. It's only natural that a child would want to play with fire as imminent as the danger is. Such a pretty shade of blue, such a pretty glow, almost too perfect to be true. It's only natural that Haruko should covet what mere mortals can only wax lyrical of on paper and in prose. Haruko has seen perfection with her own eyes and it hurts so much to be denied of such a gift…

* * *

In her second year, Haruko isn't sure that what she wants is what she really needs.

Should she care any more than she couldn't care any less?

The fire beneath his ice has thawed by the minutest of measures. Or is really the coldness freezing the fire? She isn't sure. She has touched both ice and fire and has come back with the scars to testify. But still, youthful naiveté prevails above all, a pulsating vibrant hum of symphonies assuring her that all paragons are indeed not always perfection. Ahead of her, she is reminded of another reason to thank the heavens of the simple pleasures in life. The sunlight casts a yellow glow over the silky black strands of his hair strewn on his head and brushing his cheeks as he slumbers on despite the incessant glares sent his way by the teacher in charge.

It hurts all at once. To want everything and expect nothing in return. Haruko wonders if this feeling is worthy of martyrdom, to reach higher than you can see, to grope about blindly for something that may have only been a myth in the first place. Feelings that are committed to unrequited fits of wistfulness should be best laid to rest rather than dragged out like some cruel tragicomedy.

But isn't it enough that one measly little monosyllable uttered by him should still make her cheeks redden and her heart flutter even though it precedes days or even weeks of silence in return for her patience?

Haruko knows the answer as well as anyone else. That it is a hopeless, futile exercise in waiting. For how long? Comets are phenomena that are only seen once in a thousand years at the least. So what if it he's one in a million…?

She's already made up her mind.

* * *

By third year, Haruko _thinks _that she knows what is good for her.

When delivered a choice between simple execution and waiting, it is very often the latter that is the most painful. Especially when it extends to tales of princesses pining for knights who choose to slay dragons over rescuing damsels in distress. It's pathetic, really, to compare her life to a fairytale but at the moment, Haruko can do nothing more than imagine her days as a book left ignored on its shelf.

True, she is never starved for company. True, she still admires him from afar, watches him as he tends to his flock like a shepherd. She almost smiles at the comparison. The newly assembled team of hopeful basketball superstars is anything but a bunch of diminutive sheep and Captain Rukawa himself is merely playing the part of a fox as the shepherd as a disgruntled redhead put it.

Sometimes, Haruko still catches herself in a dream, hoping against fate that a simple wish of hers would be granted. Of course, she has learnt to soothe these childish yearnings and hankerings. That doesn't mean that she has entirely succeeded. Comets are troublesome forces of nature, unwilling to be caught and tempered into any form whatsoever. With lightning speed and a thunderous force does he still streak past her, reminding her of those vivid freshman days branded into her memories. A sudden quake makes her legs tremble beneath her and it takes all her dignity to stop herself from falling…

Time and time again, she still dreams.

He stands straight, his posture stiff and erect. And all she has to do is release herself, ignore the yellow sunbeams that highlight his tousled hair and watch out for the eternal flame that renders his stare in blue flames. She imagines the wind whistling through the green leaves of spring, hopeful for a fresh start. She imagines all the little details of the last day that they'll wear these humble high-school uniforms before casting them aside for the demands of the outside world…

"R-Rukawa-kun…"

There is that gaze, always burning, always penetrating.

"I just wanted to say…"

There are those blue eyes, immovable and relentless at the same time.

"… S-since we're graduating in a few hours…"

Time stands still…

"I…"

… for the tiniest sliver of a moment…

"I – "

… before it shatters and Haruko wakes up.

* * *

_**Not really a RuHaru fan but I had this idea in my head for a while. Does wonders for the writer's block, it does…**_


End file.
